Stars – a poem
April 19, 2021
You used to step onto the pavement
of your driveway and pause,
your eyes clutching the stars.
You had seen stars like these
in school, laying down under a silver dome
at a projected sky,
The Big Dipper, a lion, and a bear.
Those stars weren’t real,
but you knew that they were,
so you’d try to find them at night.
You don’t see these lights now.
Is it really because you can’t see them
or that you have forgotten to look?
During the day, there are no stars
but sometimes you see a sliver of the moon
with the white powder of a cloud,
crumbling in the blue sky.
You sit in your backyard and see
black birds with green.
A family of mourning doves, six,
pulling seeds from mulch.
You are home and there is nowhere to go
but in your house and outside.
You sit in a lawn chair
and whistle,
Be be be be be doo doo doo doo doo
to a cardinal who echoes it back to you.
You always hear the cardinal,
but it is not until now
in your yard
where you talk to each other
and she knows you’re watching.
What are birds
but flying stars
that you forgot to listen to?